


PART I: FIRE

by penrosequartz



Series: THE PHOENIX [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Fall Out Boy - Bandom, MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, My Chemical Romance - Bandom
Genre: (it's fine he's a jerk), (tm), Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - No Band, Arson, Bombs, Character Death, Danger Days Era, Death, Distrust, Dystopian, Fluff, Frank is confused, Frerard, Gay, M/M, Military, Multi, Past Abuse, Post-Apocalypse, The Phoenix - Freeform, Train Tunnels, dust - Freeform, gerard is also sassy, i've been writing this for ages and tbh idek what it is, like there's no zombies or anything, lov my bois, not really - Freeform, ray is sassy, surprise! it's mikey way, the basement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penrosequartz/pseuds/penrosequartz
Summary: Gerard starts a fire. It makes things warmer.





	PART I: FIRE

**Author's Note:**

> hEY Y'ALL!!!  
> i've been working on this for a while. it's surprising that this is the first fic i've written for mcr considering theyre my favourite band? but yeah  
> this is basically an AU where ~something~ happened and now there's a war in the US and yeah. i had fun worldbuilding with this one. i really hope you like this!  
> TW for: guns, past abuse, total dickheads, character death, etc  
> it's not too heavy though like it could be worse

**YOU ARE A BRICK TIED TO ME THAT’S DRAGGING ME DOWN**

**STRIKE A MATCH AND I’LL BURN YOU TO THE GROUND**

 

✞✞✞

 

Frank strolled through the street, hands in his pockets, the sky red with the afternoon sun.

Although the dust hadn’t settled from the last bomb, he really needed to get some bread. Some good, old fashioned, cheap, American white bread. He’d been craving it.

As he rounded the corner to duck into The Basement, he saw a man running towards him at full speed.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath, lowering his eyes and ducking his head, hoping the stranger wouldn’t notice him. But, of course, seeing as he was the only idiot on the street at this hour, the man ran right up to him.

“Uh, hey,” the man panted, clearly out of breath, “Listen, if you see anyone looking for me, can you tell them I went down- _oh, fuck!”_ The stranger ducked into the thin alley beside Frank, crouching behind a dumpster.

Frank didn’t usually help strangers, but this one seemed… interesting, in the least, and there weren’t many interesting people around here. He pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his backpack. Sliding a single one out, he lit it as another man (that the first was clearly avoiding) approached him.

“You, have you seen a guy run down here? Red hair, leather jacket?” The second man asked Frank, glancing across the street and down the alleyway, frowning. He seemed angry.

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged, “Maybe. I might even remember which way he went if you gave me some incentive.”

The second man scowled, “Don’t you go playing games with me, boy-”

“Nope,” Frank smiled innocently, “Haven’t seen him at all. Sorry.” He began to turn away.

The man sighed, but reluctantly called out, “Fine, okay?” He drew his hand out of his jacket pocket with ten dollars.

Frank raised his eyebrow.

The man sighed again, pulling out another five.

“Yeah,” Frank rolled his eyes and pointed away, “That way. He seemed pretty out of it. Didn’t even see me.”

The second man laughed, “Yeah, that’d be him. Never knows anything, he’s so fucking dumb. Thanks.”

“Thank _you,_ ” Frank smiled at the money in his hand as the second man began jogging in the direction he’d pointed.

Once a few seconds had passed, Frank blew out a long stream of smoke.

“You can come out now, you know,” he told the dumpster.

The red-haired man clambered out from his hiding place, dusting himself off.

“Thanks man,” he stood, offering his hand, “I’m- wow, fuck you're short, sorry, I’m Gerard. You can call me Gee.”

Frank made an annoyed sound, stuffing the money he’d conned into his pocket and grasping Gerard’s hand firmly.

“Yeah, I know, I’m short,” Frank pulled his hand back, “I’m Frank. Why you running from that guy?”

“Frank, nice name you got there. Are you gonna give me any of that money? I am the reason you got it, after all,” Gerard smirked.

“Yeah, I'm also the reason that guy hasn't beat you up, or whatever he was gonna do. I'm keeping that money,” Frank growled, and Gerard shrugged.

“Whatever, dude,” Gerard moved to walk down the alleyway, and something in Frank’s gut told him that if he let that man walk away, he’d never see him again. Frank didn't know why that seemed _so_ unappealing.

“No, man, come walk with me. You gotta tell me what happened with that guy,” Frank grabbed Gerard’s arm and walked towards The Basement’s entry.

“I don't ‘gotta tell you’ anything,” Gerard huffed.

“Come on man, I hustled money off him. I at least want a story out of that!” Frank exclaimed.

“You got _money_ out of that,” Gerard pointed out.

“Tell me,” Frank implored, stepping down a few stairs into what used to be a subway entrance. Gerard looked hesitant to follow.

Frank waved him forward, “Dude, haven't you ever been to The Basement before?”

“The basement?” Gerard asked.

“No, I can hear the lowercase. It’s The Basement. Capital T, capital B,” Frank explained, leading him down into the dark.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Damn,” Gerard nodded, impressed, “Quite the setup you've got down here.”

“How haven't you been here before?” Frank asked, genuinely confused, “It's the only place you can buy food now in the entire town!”

Gerard paused, “Hmm. When was this started?” He gestured at the stalls, some manned, some left with the last technological security systems in the area.

“Uh… not long after the raids started. They've been here for years, dude,” Frank gave Gerard a sidelong look as he bought a package of assorted tinned foods from a middle-aged woman. The woman was tired, the dust settling into every crevice and wrinkle in her face, her expression drawn.

“Yeah, I haven't been outside in a while,” Gerard peered at another stall that was selling lengths of rope.

“Well what the fuck did you eat?” Frank narrowed his eyes slightly, “Spam?” He pointed at one of the tins in the transparent package he was shoving into his backpack.

“No, uh, that guy, Bert’s his name, he brought food back,” Gerard turned away to look at the rope seller again, but Frank still heard the whisper of: “If I was lucky.”

Frank realised with a jolt exactly how skinny Gerard was, and also how freakishly clean he seemed - like the dust hadn't touched him, and how fucking _white_ his skin was.

“Dude, when was the last time you saw some sun?” Frank asked gently, nearly touching his arm.

Gerard ignored him, walking over to the rope seller. The man behind the stall paid him no heed, but there was an odd looking sign with a graphic of a noose on it propped up on the counter.

Gerard's eyes widened as he read.

“I've also got pills, if you're interested,” the seller finally piped up, picking at his nails.

“What the hell do you-” Gerard managed to get out before Frank dragged him away, shushing him and giving an apologetic look to the man.

Frank placed some coins into the tray of another stall, and the machine took the money, whirring, and allowed him to grab a carton of eggs. Gerard was silently fuming behind him.

As they went back the way they came, climbing the stairs to the street, Frank lead the way. He glanced up and down the road when he reached the top, then gave Gerard the all-clear.

As soon as they were out in the open, Gerard exploded.

“WHAT THE _FUCK?”_ He yelled.

“Yeah, I know,” Frank replied grimly.

“He’s _selling shit to help people off themselves,_ Frank!” Gerard continued.

“Yeah… I know,” Frank stressed.

“He’s promoting suicide! Why- surely he can't get much business. Right?” Gerard turned to Frank, eyes wild.

Frank’s expression remained dull.

“You'd be surprised,” Frank explained dryly, watching Gerard's face go from angry to distraught.

“What- _how are you so okay with this?”_ Gerard cried, stopping.

Frank kept walking.

“Dude, you really don't get out much. Times like these, you do what you gotta do to make a buck and buy some shitty tinned food,” he gestured at his backpack, “And that guy has a bunch of rope from whatever he did before all this, or maybe he's just figured out a one-off way to get some cash. Sure, it might be wrong, but desperate times, yeah?”

Gerard trudged along behind him.

“It sucks. Fuck,” he paused, “I guess I know what you mean by desperate times, though. I was desperate. _That's_ why Bert’s after me.”

Frank made a sound to indicate that he wanted Gerard to continue.

Gerard sighed, “I… okay, don't hate me or whatever, but we were in a relationship.”

Gerard watched Frank’s expression. Frank didn't really seem to react, he just turned his head and raised an eyebrow slightly, as if to say: ’And?’

“And… he was abusive,” Gerard gulped. It felt odd, to say that out loud,  even though he'd said that in his brain for a while. Why was he telling a stranger this?

Frank's expression changed.

“Dude, what? I should’ve conned more money out of that shithead,” Frank frowned at the dirty street.

Gerard laughed slightly, “Yeah, I know. But anyway, I thought I had no way out. And then suddenly, I realised I did have a way out. Y’know?”

“So… you ran?” Frank asked.

Gerard smiled nervously, “Ah… sort of. Not exactly. I, uh, see, I set fire to his house.”

Frank laughed loudly into the sky, the sounds ringing through the empty town.

“Seriously?” He grinned, “Wicked! Man, that's… wow. Did it spread? The fire?”

Gerard winced, “No, but I had to stay there and make sure it didn't… and then he came home and saw me. That's why he was running after me.”

“Damn. Uh,” Frank started awkwardly, “I guess you need a place to stay?”

Gerard jaw dropped, “Fuck, yeah, do you know anywhere? Would someone put me up? Or, no, I don't know anyone. Is there anywhere cheap, or-”

“You can stay with us,” Frank interrupted, “Like, if you want. Seeing as you've got nowhere else to go. Ray will be fine with it, he's a chill guy. He's my… roommate, I guess?”

“Really?” Gerard asked, “Cool, thanks man. Running up to you was the best choice I've made in like, five years.”

Frank smiled again, feeling better than he had in a while. Things were tough these days, but Frank had a feeling Gerard would be one of his best choices too.

‘Cut it out, Frank,’ said Frank’s common sense, ‘You don't even know this guy.’

‘Fuck off,’ thought Frank.

 

✞✞✞

 

“So, what do you and Ray do to ‘make a buck?’” Gerard asked as the sun disappeared behind the buildings.

“A whole bunch of shit. People tend to _kill_ for music these days, and Ray is really good at guitar, and I usually give him some back up-” Frank began.

“You play guitar?” Gerard asked, immediately perking up.

“Yeah, I'm okay. Ray’s _really_ good. You?” Frank countered.

“I was always shit at guitar. I can- uh, I can sort of do vocals though. Please,” Gerard pleaded as Frank began to open his mouth, “Please don't ask me to sing in the middle of this road.”

“Okay,” Frank shrugged, still carrying the carton of eggs.

“What else do you do?” Gerard asked interestedly, shivering a little as a breeze swept through the quiet town.

“Uh, Ray fucks around with electronic shit and I… make clothes? It's sort of weird, but, yeah. Are you cold?” Frank asked, concerned.

“Nah, I’m fine,” Gerard waved him off, “What sort of clothes?”

“Jackets and pants, I guess. My mom was a seamstress, and there's still a bunch of buttons and things. I don't particularly _enjoy_ it, but it gives me something to do, right?” Frank explained.

“Huh, that's cool… yo, where are we actually _going?_ ” Gerard asked as they started to reach the outskirts of town, the houses thinning out.

“Just a bit away, our house is sorta… a wreck,” Frank stated solemnly.

“Nah, you can't be messier than-” Gerard started, before he was interrupted.

“As in, it was bombed,” Frank cut in.

“Oh,” replied Gerard.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Here we are!” Frank smiled, pointing up ahead.

Gerard raised his eyebrows. He'd sort of expected something really dodgy, a crumbling ruin of sorts. Instead he was greeted with a traditional-style home. Sure, bits of it were missing, but it still looked like a functioning household.

Frank glanced at him, trying to figure out what the other man was thinking.

“Huh,” Gerard quirked his lips, not quite a smile.

Why are you staring at his lips, Frank. Stop it, Frank.

Fucking hell, Frank.

Frank tore his gaze away from Gerard's mouth.

“Better than you expected?” He asked as he stepped up onto the porch.

“A little,” Gerard shrugged, “Whose house is this?”

“It's actually Ray’s family's house, but his Mom and Dad were ‘conscripted for their skills.’” There was scorn in Frank’s voice as he pulled out a ring of keys and slid one into the front door.

“My dad was too,” Gerard mused. All the time he'd been with Bert, he’d barely thought about his family. Now he was wondering where they were.

“And your mom?” Frank asked, swinging the door open.

“She joined up with him. I tried, but I looked too young… I’m older than my brother though, and _he_ got in!” Gerard frowned.

“So you don't know where they are? And yeah, just put your shoes there, thanks,” Frank gestured to the side of the hall where his and another pair of shoes rested.

“No idea. My brother was in Texas when he joined up, I don't even know if he found my parents,” Gerard placed his shoes beside Frank’s, “I was in Jersey and then I came down here with Bert.”

“Hey, Ray!” Frank called into the house, “You home?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Did you bring home some-” Ray rounded the corner and made eye contact with Gerard.

“Ray?” Gerard asked, “As in, Ray _Toro?”_

“Oh. My god. Gerard _fucking_ Way,” Ray laughed, turning to Frank, “Dude, where'd you dig him up?”

“Wait… you two know each other?” Frank asked. Ray nodded.

“So, _you're_ Frank Iero,” Gerard regarded him in wonder.

“Hang on, Gerard _Way?_ As in, Mikey’s brother?” Frank realised.

“You're… shorter than I expected,” Gerard smirked.

“Oh, shut up. I thought you were supposed to be his older brother, but you look like a ten year old,” Frank laughed.

“Dude, I thought you were in the army!” Ray clapped Gerard on the back, guiding the other two into the living room.

“No, I was too young, and they could tell,” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“So where have you been all this time?” Ray asked incredulously.

There was a pause.

“Uh…” Gerard began.

“Come on, Gee,” Frank tried the nickname out, and noticed the looks he got from both men, “I wanna tell him about the good bit!”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “I was in a shitty relationship, haven't been out in a while, and Frank is super excited to tell you I'm an arsonist.”

“Um. What?” Asked Ray.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Yeah, and now we're here!” Frank’s eyes shone with excitement.

“Dude, that's crazy,” Ray laughed.

Gerard stared at Frank in awe.

“What?” Frank asked, noticing Gerard's gaze.

“You look like a puppy,” Gerard giggled, and Ray put his head in hands, groaning. Frank blushed.

“O-kay, if you guys are gonna make out please give me fair warning,” Ray smirked as both the other men’s heads whipped around.

“I called him a puppy, why would I- that doesn't-”

“We’re not making out, he just burnt his ex’s house down!”

“Yeah!”

“Exactly!”

Ray rolled his eyes, “Okay, sure. And where will Mr. Way be sleeping, hmm?”

Frank frowned. It was true that they didn't own a couch, and they only had two single beds.

“Gee can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor-” he started.

“No, no,” Gerard interrupted, “I’ll sleep on the floor, I wouldn't want to- I mean, I can find a hotel-”

“Okay, so it’s settled. You two can sleep in Frank’s bed,” Ray stated, “There's not enough bedding crap for someone to sleep on the floor.”

“Ray,” Frank turned to the man with a smile on his face, internally screaming, “Are you serious right now?”

“Listen, it’ll be a great experience. I’ll even come and gossip with you and we can have an old-fashioned sleepover,” Ray laughed.

“I literally _just_ told you my life story - and then some,” Gerard laughed, “What could we possibly gossip about?”

“I’m sure we’ll find something. How about we make plans for tomorrow? Frank and I had a break day planned, so we can easily fit you in,” Ray smiled.

Frank shrugged. That actually sounded pretty nice. Even though it would be weird sharing a bed with some hot guy who he hardly knew, even if he did know his ‘life story.’

“Sure, whatever,” he huffed, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile when he saw that Gerard’s cheeks were slightly pink.

 

✞✞✞

 

“So, what do you guys usually do on ‘break days?’” Gerard asked.

He was propped on the only spare pillow in the house, which didn’t have a pillow case on it. Frank was curled up in a ball on the same bed, holding his pillow (which did have a pillow case).

“Uh, we do lots of shit. Mostly explore the tunnels…” Ray replied - he was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“The tunnels?” Gerard frowned.

 _‘Oh my god,’_ thought Frank, _‘He’s so cute. Wait. No. I meant he’s cool.’_

“Yeah, like the train tunnels,” explained Ray, gazing with a knowing smile at Frank (who was still staring at Gerard).

“Oh, cool,” Gerard smiled, “Is there anything interesting down there?”

“Yeah we’ve found a couple of really cool things!” Frank perked up, “Like, we’ve found about a hundred bucks in all the time we've been there, and we’ve found jewellery and shit. It’s great. We’re going further than we’ve ever been tomorrow, right, Ray?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great! I have no idea what will be down there,” Ray put on his spookiest face, “Maybe we’ll even find a dead body…”

Gerard’s face went slightly whiter before Ray burst out laughing.

“Both of your faces, oh my god, I live for this,” he snickered, “Okay, who wants dinner?”

“Me thanks, Mom,” Frank raised his hand.

“Very funny,” Ray rolled his eyes.

Behind both their eyes, Gerard saw a flicker of pain. None of them knew where their parents were.

 

✞✞✞

 

Frank had sacrificed his chair.

Gerard felt a bit bad for sitting in his seat, but Frank insisted the the floor was perfectly comfy, and said it was him repaying Gerard for the best meal he’d had in ages.

“Hey, my cooking’s not _that_ bad,” Ray faked a hurt voice.

“It is, bro,” Frank laughed.

Ray paused, before agreeing, “Yeah, okay, it is. It’s not as bad as yours, though.”

“Didn’t say it was,” Frank smirked.

Gerard smiled at the scene. Even though Frank and Ray were just friends (he thought?), this was what a relationship should look like. Joking and poking fun at each other, no hard feelings, happiness even though they were literally in one of the shittiest places on Earth.

He still couldn’t believe he’d spent so much time with that asshole. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t burnt that ugly-as-fuck house down sooner.

Damn that felt good. Calling Bert an asshole. Even in his own head.

Gerard subconsciously touched the side of his torso, just under his ribs.

“Hey, buddy. You ok?”

Gerard shook himself, locking onto Frank’s hazel eyes.

“Huh?” He asked.

“You look a bit distant. What’s up?” Frank asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Gerard began, before being greeted by two guys with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just glad I’m not living with that piece of shit anymore,” Gerard grinned.

“Yass,” Ray laughed, “Slay him, Gerard.”

“Dude, no, you sound like a teen from… I dunno, 2016?” Frank frowned (it had been a long time ago, and he didn’t really have a brain for numbers).

“Ew,” Ray shot him a dirty look, “Don’t talk about that year. That was a bad year.”

“It could have been worse?” Frank tried.

“Not for me,” Ray said darkly.

Frank frowned, before his eyes opened in humour and realisation. “Wait, is this about-”

“No!” Ray tackled him, clamping a hand over his mouth, “We don’t speak of this!”

Gerard was laughing so hard he nearly fell off the armchair. He had no idea what Ray was talking about, but he was being so overprotective - it was the funniest thing.

 

✞✞✞

 

After about half an hour of hilarious conversation, a comfortable silence hung over the room.

“So… wanna watch TV?” Frank asked, “There won’t be much on, but we might be able to tune in to some old movie or something. History channel. It’ll all be shitty reruns, but whatever.”

“You guys have a TV?” Gerard asked, looking around in amazement.

“You- you didn’t have a TV?” Ray asked incredulously.

“Uh, no?” Gerard replied, as if it were obvious.

“Well, yeah, we have a TV,” Ray widened his eyes, “Dude, I cannot believe you didn’t have one. That _sucks._ ”

“It’s not like there’ll be anything good on anyway,” Frank sighed.

“Shh,” Ray sighed, “I’ll find something.”

“Why can’t I see it?” Gerard asked confusedly.

“We have to keep a cover on it,” Ray explained, “Otherwise the dust would get in and fuck it up, y’know?”

Ray lifted a black plastic sheet off an object, revealing the television.

“Dude,” Gerard whispered, eyes shining.

 

✞✞✞

 

Hours later, awkwardly facing opposite walls of Frank's bedroom, back to each other, Gerard tried to strike up a conversation.

“Are you- uh, are you looking forward to tomorrow?” He asked nervously, speaking to the cracked paint.

Frank rolled over into his back, and Gerard did the same.

“Yeah, I guess. I dunno what we'll find,” Frank sounded perfectly casual, much to Gerard's annoyance.

Frank was a nice looking guy. Like, he was hot, Gerard thought. And that thought was incredibly difficult to share a bed with.

Not that Gerard wanted to jump into another relationship or… whatever. He just burned Bert’s house down! Although, he pondered, that hadn't really been a ‘relationship’ for years.

Gerard sighed, trying to sort his feelings

about Bert. He felt a little guilty about burning his house down - maybe that was overkill. But it _totally_ wasn't, considering what Bert had done to him. But Bert had fed him, at least enough to keep him alive! But he'd only fed him enough to keep him alive…

Gerard curled into his side again, folding himself into a ball. He could feel how skinny he was.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Frank whispered.

“Sorry, is it keeping you awake?” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“No, what? Very funny,” Frank sighed, “Just… are you okay?”

Gerard hesitated before replying, “I'm just sorting everything out, y’know?”

There was tension-rich silence before Frank hesitantly and softly patted Gerard's shoulder.

“Goodnight, Gee. Don't stay up too late sorting, yeah?” Frank whispered, rolling back over so his back was to Gerard again.

“Goodnight, Frank…” Gerard whispered,

 

✞✞✞

 

At three in the morning, Gerard was still sorting.

He felt dirty. He was stupid, so stupid to think that he could survive without Bert. But at the same time, now he had friends! Maybe they'd help him. Maybe his brother would come home from the war and they'd all be fine. Maybe they'd make music together.

Ultimately, he still felt nauseous. He found his way to bathroom and threw up - all that good food, down the drain. It was the largest meal he'd had in a while. He probably shouldn't have eaten that much.

A knock on the door.

“Hey, Gee, are you okay?” Frank’s voice ran through the wood.

“Y-yeah, I just threw up, sorry… there's no mess or anything, and I'm fine,” Gerard started.

“Can I come in?” Asked Frank.

Gerard froze, but somehow he heard himself say, “If you want.”

The door swung open to reveal Frank, rubbing his forearms because of the cool night air.

“I heard you get up,” he said, “I can go, if you'd like…” he trailed off.

“No,” Gerard shook his head, “Stay, please.”

Frank took a small step toward Gerard, who took a larger step forward, trailing his arms around Frank, pulling him closer. Gerard barely managed to choke back a sob as Frank rubbed comforting circles on his back.

“I’m such an idiot, I- I should leave, I don't wanna impose or anything, I’ll go,” Gerard mumbled.

“It's fine. I… I want you to stay,” Frank hummed.

Gerard suddenly pulled back. Frank immediately wondered what he had done, but he noticed that Gerard had an expression of realisation on his face.

“Uh. I just…” Gerard started, “I just threw up all your food… Oh, god, that was so bad.”

“It's okay,” Frank laughed, “You can't help that you threw up! I, uh, I think? Maybe not. Sorry? Uhm. Fuck.”

“You have to do _something!”_ Gerard cried, pulling at his hair, seeming not to have noticed the last part of Frank’s sentence.

“Like what?” Frank asked quietly, curiously, cautiously.

“Like-” Gerard’s eyes were wild, his pale skin almost translucent under the white bathroom light, the bags under his eyes more noticeable than ever, and all of a sudden he clapped his hand over his mouth.

“No, I’m, I’m sorry - that's not what happens, you wouldn't do that to me. Well, I don't know…” Gerard trailed off, mumbling to himself.

“Gee,” Frank started, not really knowing what he was going to say, “I wouldn't do that to you, okay, I promise. You don't deserve that, I'm so sorry he did this to you-”

Frank was cut off by Gerard’s knees buckling, a sob emanating from the redhead’s shuddering body.

Frank kneeled down next to him, rubbing his back again.

“That's how it started, you know,” Gerard told Frank in a strained voice, “In the beginning. He told me that it hadn't happened at all. That I was crazy. And I believed him. And then, eventually, I made the mistake of confronting him about it when he was drunk. Worst beating of my life, but at least he gave me an honest answer.”

Frank breathed in and out, processing what Gerard had just said.

“Do you still have… injuries?” Frank asked hesitantly, before adding, “Like, do we need to see a doctor? Or, as close as we can get in this shithole?”

“No,” Gerard shook his head, “No, no no no. Walking home with you today… was _really_ stupid.”

Frank's face fell.

“Not, not like that!” Gerard backpedalled, “It’s just… he has a _gun,_ Frank, if he'd caught me, or you, even…”

“Where the hell did he get a gun from?” Frank asked, confused, and more than a little pissed. Firearms weren't available for public use now, not even if you had a permit, even in the USA, not after… he nearly shuddered at the thought of it.

“I’m pretty sure he printed it,” Gerard admitted, “I made sure the printer was burned along with everything else, but I didn't find the gun in the house. He probably had it on him. I was gonna take the gun with me when I left.”

“A printer? Like a 3D printer?” Frank made a face, “How did he get a hold of that? That's even _more_ illegal.”

When Gerard just shrugged, Frank continued.

“Besides, not taking the gun with you? Blessing in disguise, my friend. Do you even know what they'd do to you if they found you with that?” Frank asked.

Gerard didn't know. Neither did Frank. But they both had some sort of idea of what would have happened - the atmosphere in the room shifted from annoyed to uneasy.

“Get some rest, yeah?” Frank said after a pause, “We can go explore the tunnels tomorrow, and hopefully we’ll never see that son of a bitch again.”

 

✞✞✞

 

“Gerard!”

_Huh?_

“I know you're in there, you motherfucker-”

_Oh. The cute guy was a dream, then._

“Dude, I don’t know what the fuck your deal is, but you need to get the fuck out of my house.”

_Wait, that’s a different one… Ray's voice?_

Gerard sat up in bed, eyes wide but still bleary from sleep. There was a piece of paper stuck to the back of Frank’s closed door. As Gerard slowly stood and squinted at the messy writing, he realised what it said.

**_Don't leave the room._ **

Gerard inched closer to the door, pressing his ear up against it, his red hair contrasting against the white (flecked with brown) door.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Man, _leave!_ There's no one else here but me and my buddy Frank,” Ray said angrily.

“Listen, one of my guys saw my… _friend_ ,” Bert paused, “Go in here yesterday. Just let me in to take a look around.”

“I don't know you,” Ray growled, “Would you let some stranger in your house in these… troubled times?”

Frank appeared behind Ray, scowling, “Who are you?”

Of course, Frank already knew the answer: this was Bert, Gerard's infamous abusive ex.

“My name’s Bert,” the man replied, confirming Frank’s belief, “I live in town. That asshole that's in your house? He burned my house down yesterday!”

The man paused, “Wait… didn't I see you on the street yesterday?”

Frank froze. _Shit._

“I did!” Bert exclaimed, suddenly looking even angrier, “I _paid_ you, and you fucking took him _home?”_

“I don't know what you're talking about, man,” Frank glared, “Maybe your ‘guy’ who supposedly saw your friend come here is hiding him from you.”

“I don't think so,” Bert narrowed his eyes, hand imperceptibly heading behind his back, “I trust Bob entirely.”

Frank’s body tensed, but Ray remained pretty relaxed, and Frank realised - Ray didn't know Bert had a gun. It wasn't really something you'd expect in this day and age. They could be in big trouble.

And suddenly there was a gun pointed at Frank’s head, and Bert’s shirt fluttered in the warm breeze.

“Oh,” Ray whispered, going weak at the knees and sinking to the ground, eyes glazing over.

“What?” Bert said blankly, as if levelling a gun at someone was perfectly natural and a possibility that one should _always_ be prepared for.

Frank took advantage of the distraction and, against his better judgement, attempted a move he'd seen in an old action movie rerun. He flicked his wrist out, catching the gun on the barrel, closing his eyes. The gun fell out of Bert’s grip, spun down until the butt of it struck Ray’s skull. Frank held his breath, his heart thudding in his chest, and he thought of Gerard - a scared but beautiful young man, untouched by the rust-coloured dust that everyone else in the world was tainted with now.

The gun fired.

 

✞✞✞

 

_What the fuck was that? Was that a gunshot?_

Gerard could hardly breathe. Was someone just shot? No, of course not. What was going on? He needed to go out there.

He pushed open the door, cautiously but quickly heading down the hallway to the open front door. The sun was bright, so he squinted his eyes against the glare, and as his eyes focused he was greeted by…

Bert.

Lying on the ground.

Bleeding, a trickle of red leaking out of his skull.

And beneath him, was Ray.

And standing above and to the side of them both, looking as if he killed his grandmother’s cat, was Frank. The messy, black-haired man turned to Gerard, an anxious and panicked expression on his face.

“Shit,” he said.

“Shit,” Gerard whispered, “What happened?”

“Ray passed out, shock from having a gun pointed at him, I think… and the gun sorta fell outta Bert’s hand, spun, hit Ray’s head and... went off,” Frank said in disbelief.

“What, and hit Bert? Bullshit,” Gerard said, automatically suspicious.

“Yeah, I know, it’s… pretty crazy…” Frank paused, “How many people do you reckon heard that?”

“Probably more than we’d like,” Gerard glanced around at the few other houses on the street. Most of them were completely destroyed, or empty. But there was one up the street that seemed occupied, and Gerard saw a blond man looking out of the window. The man quickly dropped the curtain he was holding up, but Gerard saw him lift a phone to his lips.

“That guy’s calling, uh, y’know,” Gerard said, voice going up an octave, “Let’s go, we need to get out of here!”

“Where are we gonna go?” Frank asked incredulously.

“Well… can we go down the tunnels? Didn’t you say we were gonna go down there today?” Gerard asked, eyes still on the curtains in the window. Suddenly, a buzzing noise came from the now dead body that was lying on top of Ray. Both were face down. The frizzy-haired man stirred, eyes cracking open.

“Oh,” Gerard said, “Maybe the guy in the window is Bob. Maybe _he’s_ calling Bert.”

The buzzing noise stopped.

“What the fuck is happening?” Ray’s eyes were wider now.

“Now he’s definitely calling the service,” Frank gulped.

“We need to leave,” Gerard whispered, making no move to do that.

“Did your ex just point a gun at me? Is…” Ray attempted to twist his neck, seeing blood on his left side, “IS HE DEAD?! IS THERE LITERALLY A DEAD BODY _ON TOP OF ME_ RIGHT NOW?”

Frank shrugged, “Let’s get him off you, then we can go. Hurry.”

 

✞✞✞

 

As much as Gerard (or Frank, or _Ray_ for that matter) didn’t want to touch Bert’s dead body, they all knew they had to leave quickly. And they couldn’t just leave Ray pinned down.

So Gerard hesitantly took hold of Bert’s (incredibly heavy) arm, and Frank tugged hard on his side, and somehow they managed to slide the deadweight that was Gerard’s ex off Ray. Ray dusted himself off, brushing his jacket down. Although it was mid-morning, and hot – really hot – all three (four?) men were wearing jackets. Gerard had grabbed his before he’d left Frank’s room. No-one could afford short sleeves these days, and any thin material could still be burned through. Gerard could feel his face frying already.

Bert had sunscreen, which Gerard had applied before he... well. Melted the entire house. He couldn’t afford to take it with him, he’d packed a small-ish backpack, and he couldn’t fit the sunscreen’s bulky container inside. Not that he ever got to take the bag anyway, Bert had scared him off before he’d even had time to pick it up.

Frank and Ray raced inside, madly grabbing things and shoving them into bags, before they both paused.

“Wait...” said Frank.

“Yeah,” Ray nodded.

“Where?” Frank frowned.

“Hallway cupboard,” Ray jogged back to the corridor and swung open one of the built-in cupboards, throwing stuff over his shoulder onto the floor. Frank peered in, eyes searching and Gerard slowly walked towards them, lost in thought.

He hated Bert.

So why did he feel so... upset? Sad? He didn’t know the word. Maybe he was just too damaged, too broken, for his brain to realise how fucked up that was. Well, no, that wasn’t true – he knew how fucked up it was, but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it.

Frank’s voice echoed around in his head – _maybe you’re upset that you didn’t get to kill him yourself._

Honestly, that seemed like a much more sensible answer, considering the circumstances. Gerard grinned – he’d known Frank for less than 24 hours, and the little cutie had already become the guardian angel in his head.

Gerard lifted his eyes to see Frank staring at him, smiling expectantly.

“Huh?” the redhead asked blankly.

“I said,” Frank smirked, “Maybe you’re upset that you didn’t get to kill him yourself.”

“Oh, you... you said that out loud. Oops,” Gerard giggled, “I, uh. Thought you were saying it in... my brain?”

“What?” Frank asked, cheeks going a little pink.

Ray sighed heavily, shaking his head.

“Hello?” he asked in amazement, “Dead body? The service? Do the words _‘time sensitive’_ mean nothing to you? Y’all can flirt later, Jesus Christ.”

“We’re not flirting,” Frank grumbled, nudging past him as a duffel bag was passed into his arms.

“Yeah, you call that flirting?” Gerard placed a hand on his hips, “Honey, I’ll show you flirting.”

 _“Lay. Ter,”_ Ray pleaded desperately, shooing Gerard out the door, “Did you put screen on?”

“No, I didn’t bring any with me when I burned down my ex’s house,” Gerard said sarcastically, before glancing at Bert’s body and adding, “Make that... dead ex.”

“You should have,” Frank interrupted in a serious tone, “You’ll get burned. Put some on.” He handed Gerard a tube of orangey-brown paste.

“Ugh, I hate this colour,” Gerard complained, rubbing some on his cheeks, “Makes me look like-“

“Don’t say it,” Ray winced.

“It’s not the Scottish play starting with M, you’re allowed to say his name out loud,” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“The Scottish – were you a theatre nerd?” Frank asked delightedly as Ray unlocked the garage roller door.

“Mayyyyybe,” Gerard smiled.

“That’s kind of cute, actually,” Frank laughed.

“You’re kind of cute,” Gerard felt the words slip out and lifted his hand to his mouth, “I- I mean.”

“Guys, did I not say flirt later?” Ray groaned, pulling a huge black tarp off a lump in the centre of the garage, revealing a reasonably nice family minibus. Gerard smirked.

“Do you even know how to drive?” He asked Ray, sliding the side door open and climbing in.

“Sorta. I’ve had a bit of practice – there’s not much to do around here,” the man replied, throwing himself into the driver’s seat and starting the car up.

Frank’s face was white as a sheet.

“What?” Ray asked.

“Sirens,” Frank’s eyes were wider than the moon. Which was a bad metaphor, because the moon was always changing width to the human eye. His eyes were like the full moon, I guess.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Frank’s eyes were fucking wide and he’d probably just peed his pants. Get the picture?

“Quick, get in!” Ray began to reverse out of the garage, quickly pressing a button on the keyring. The roller door began to descend as Ray pulled out onto the road.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Dude, fucking _drive!”_ Gerard yelled, “That blond guy knows what kind of car we’re in by now, and who else in town owns a fucking soccer mom car?”

“It’s serving its purpose, Way! Don’t complain about soccer mom cars – you look like a fourteen year old girl!” Ray hollered back.

“Shit, guys,” Frank whispered, “What the fuck did we do? We need to go back!”

“Are you insane?” Gerard asked, “We can’t go back! There’s a dead body there!”

“Exactly, we can’t leave it there! That house is our only safe place in the entire town. I’m not including the tunnels, because while they’re safe from the bombs, they’re not safe from the service. Aren’t there security cameras?” Frank asked anxiously.

“It’s not a safe place anymore, your neighbour just sold us out,” Gerard mumbled.

“Well, Frank did kind of kill someone,” Ray pointed out, making a smooth (well. Not smooth) right turn.

“I didn’t kill him, he was an idiot. He killed himself,” Frank grumbled.

“He-“ Gerard paused, “He killed himself... because of me...” Gerard looked scared.

“Woah, no,” Frank swivelled around, “Context is needed for that, okay? You can’t think like that. This is _not_ your fault.”

“I burnt his house down,” Gerard said blankly.

“Which he kept you locked in for like, half a decade,” Ray offered, “You burnt down your own prison, in which you were wrongfully being held captive. Sounds pretty heroic to me.”

“And then my captor came looking for me and... got himself shot,” Gerard said in a reasonable tone.

“Sounds like a great story to tell the cops,” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think we’ll be dealing with the cops,” Gerard worriedly glanced out the window, relieved to find that no one was following them.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Well, this is our home for the next couple of days,” Frank hopped off the platform, over the yellow line, and into the darkness of the train tunnel.

“Days?” Gerard asked, “Sounds a bit optimistic to me.”

“Well,” Frank began, “I’m hoping our neighbourhood watch dude will tell the service the truth, the whole truth, and... whatever the last bit is-“

“Nothing but the truth,” Ray interjected, jumping and joining Frank in the rocks and dirt of the tunnel.

“Thanks. And they’ll find the gun, and the body, and they... might not believe Mr. Watchman at first, but hopefully eventually they will. And we’ll be fine. And then we can go back,” Frank finished.

“Well, there’s a lot of things wrong with that. But okay,” Gerard sighed, looking down into the tunnel distrustfully, “What if a train comes along?”

“The tunnels are for ‘military operations’. And I doubt they’re using it, don’t you?” Ray smiled.

“Fine…” Gerard jumped, then whimpered, feeling his ankle crack as he landed.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked concernedly, helping him up.

“Yeah, m’fine. Old bones,” Gerard laughed.

“Good to hear you… _cracking_ jokes!” Frank giggled.

“Oh my god,” Gerard hit Frank’s arm, “No!”

“Listen, guys,” Ray turned to them, face serious, “Stop- stop _cracking_ up.” He couldn’t hold back his laughter.

They laughed like that, the three of them, for a few minutes. Every time they tried to stop, they would glance around at their expressions and burst out laughing again.

“So,” Frank began eventually, “Let’s go. Maybe we’ll find something cool!”

 

✞✞✞

 

They walked for a few hours, shining their torches into every corner, but they didn't find anything until Ray caught sight of a sliver of bright yellow electrical tape stuck to the side of the tunnel.

“We're here, this is as far as we've ever been,” Ray paused, “This way, at least.”

The group came to a stop.

“What about the other way?” Gerard asked.

“There's a military base that way, and it's been kind of walled off. I think-” Frank began, before he was interrupted.

“Not this again…” Ray groaned.

“They're doing some sort of experiment, seriously!” Frank exclaimed.

Gerard smiled at Frank’s animated face, “Maybe they're collecting alien artifacts.”

“Yeah! Like Area 51…” Frank trailed off.

The entire group swallowed. The tunnel seemed bleaker now, the reality of their situation setting in. The novelty was lost, the dark passage no longer let exhilarating but sad and grey.

“I know no one talks about it, but… it was so bad,” Gerard murmured, squinting into the dark, seeing some sort of light.

“It was _stupid,_ that's what it was,” Ray said grimly, “What's that?”

“I think it's another platform!” Frank jogged towards the light.

“Really?” Ray frowned.

“Holy _shit!”_ Came Frank’s cry, “Guys, come check this out!”

“What?” Gerard called, running after him.

Frank threw his bag up, then hoisted himself, scrabbling onto the platform. In the dirty white light, Gerard thought he looked like an angel - an angel made of neon.

“Come on!” Ray laughed, “A vending machine? Does it still work?”

“I think so!” Frank called back as Ray climbed up the platform.

Gerard made his way to the side of the platform, walking beside the tracks.

“You guys know there's a ladder over here, right?” He asked.

“Oh. Yeah,” Frank laughed, “I always forget about that.”

“Wait, there's one on the other platform too?” Gerard whined, “Aw man, I cracked my ankle for nothing.”

 

✞✞✞

 

Gerard didn't know how Ray had done it, but by some miracle, the vending machine had been cracked open. The power _was_ still connected, incredibly, and Ray plugged some cord thing into a socket in the wall.

And then he pulled out an absolutely _ancient_ phone.

“Oh my god. What _is_ that?” Gerard asked.

“It’s an iPhone 8,” Frank rolled his eyes before Ray could answer, “He's very proud of it. Thinks it's ‘retro.’”

“Ha fucking ha. This is the first time I’ve been able to charge my phone in… years,” Ray growled.

“That's not a phone, that's a _brick,”_ Frank laughed.

“You couldn't charge it anywhere else?” Gerard asked.

“Nope,” Ray sighed, “Everything in the house was monitored during, y’know, so you can't disconnect anything.”

Gerard frowned slightly, opening his mouth to speak.

“If you say “can't you just hack into it” I’ll literally deck you. Out like a light,” Ray deadpanned.

“But-” Gerard started.

“There are several _incredibly thorough_ protocols,” Ray stated, “There's absolutely no way to do it. I've tried, several times, and been electrocuted - twice. Trust me.”

“Well…” Gerard raised his eyebrows, “That's shitty. Pass me a soda.”

“Bold move,” Frank huffed a small laugh, lips quirking up slightly, “Let me know if it's the most disgusting thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Can't be worse than your cooking,” Ray smirked.

“Suck my dick, Toro,” Frank rolled his eyes.

“That's Gerard’s job, I believe,” Ray snickered. Frank went red, but Gerard just laughed.

“I don't know if that's at my pay grade… yet,” Gerard winked.

 _“Yep,”_ Frank thought, _“Yeah, I’m dead. This is what death feels like.”_

 

✞✞✞

 

It had been three days. Frank was excited about being in the tunnels, sleeping in the darkness, lights flickering on in the morning when Ray flicked the switch (or whatever he did). But Gerard seemed… drained. Frank remembered suddenly that he’d basically been inside for five years. So, yeah, maybe hiding underground wasn’t the best idea.

Damn it.

Slowly there was more trust building between Gerard and him and Ray. Gerard had been very open at first, but now after sharing embarrassing stories (fuck you, Ray), and telling really bad jokes, there was a steadiness that wasn’t there before. Frank liked it - it was comforting to have someone else. They had some, well, not _friends,_ per se, in town - but Gerard was really becoming part of the group.

Frank was a little surprised at how easily Ray took Gerard in. I mean, they’d known each other before, of course. But Frank had thought that maybe Ray wouldn’t want someone else intruding on their friendship - three’s a crowd, after all.

Frank didn’t feel that Gerard was crowding in, though, because - because. He didn’t just think of him as a friend?

Oh, God, he was a horrible person - Gerard had just come out of a horrible relationship. The flirting was probably just a coping mechanism, Frank needed to understand that. And you should never date someone if they were on the rebound.

Although, Gerard wasn’t exactly ‘on the rebound’ - from the look of things, he hadn’t loved Bert in a long time.

Oh, fuck, Bert. Frank had literally _killed_ someone. Sort of.

Frank tried to stop thinking. He looked over at Ray attempting to teach Gerard something about circuit boards or something. It was entertaining, to say the least, and involved a lot of eye-rolling and witty comments.

Hmm. Circuit boards. Maybe Frank would make a circuit board jacket when he got back home, provided everything worked out and they ever actually went back, and that the cops hadn’t confiscated all his shit.

Glancing at Gerard and Ray laughing, a thought occured.

_‘What if Ray doesn’t feel like Gerard’s intruding because Ray feels the same way I do?’_

 

✞✞✞

 

“I think I’m gonna go back to The Basement,” Ray announced later, “We need some more water.”

“Oh. Alright, but don't buy too much,” Frank mumbled, “We’re running out of money.”

“Only cause you used some of our fund for buttons with “fuck off” on them,” Ray raised an eyebrow, standing and dusting himself off.

Frank groaned, laid on his back, and placed his forearm over his head, frowning.

“Oh, wait, grab a May’s tin of something,” he added.

“He’s already gone,” Gerard murmured, voice a lot closer than Frank remembered.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, sitting up and opening his eyes with a jolt.

Gerard was sitting cross-legged next to him, amused smirk on his face.

“What?” Frank frowned at Gerard’s smile.

“What?” Gerard countered innocently.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Frank scowled.

“I’m just wondering what's wrong, that's all,” Gerard cocked his head to one side.

“Huh? Nothing’s-” Frank stopped, before starting again, “Are you into Ray?”

Gerard’s face was blank.

“Uh… what?” He gave Frank an incredulous look, “No?”

“Okay,” Frank said, not really knowing how to continue.

“Oh my god,” Gerard’s expression lit up, his eyes laughing, “You're _jealous?”_

“What? What, no!” Frank laughed nervously.

“So, you're not into me then?” Gerard played hurt for a second. It seemed to do the trick.

“No, I mean, yes, I-” Frank spluttered, “You're-”

A little _too_ hesitant - and suddenly Gerard was really, really worried.

“Wait, are you actually not into me?” He asked, eyes widening. Had he really been reading the signals wrong?

“No, I _am!”_ Frank gasped, unable to stand the confused and scared expression on Gerard’s face, “I really, really am, it's just that, you just got out of that thing with Bert, and I don't want to push it-”

There was another pair of lips on Frank’s. They moved slowly, they were warm. Frank thought he should probably move his too instead of just staying still like an idiot.

So he did. He nearly did. But then Gerard pulled away.

“Sorry, I probably should have asked,” Gerard said quietly, pushing himself backwards, “I’m such an idiot, Jesus Christ.”

“Wait, Gerard-” Frank began, “Please. Just.”

“What?” Gerard asked desperately. He could feel his brain shutting down. What was happening?

“Why did you kiss me?” Frank asked.

“Pfft,” Gerard scoffed, “Well, clearly I'm attracted to you.”

“Okay,” Frank nodded, “Well, uh. I’m also attracted to you. So.”

Gerard swallowed, throat constricting.

“Well,” the redhead felt a little confidence building back up, and he brushed a strand of his fire-engine hair behind his ear, “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

“I guess no- uh. Okay,” Frank's voice went up slightly as Gerard came close to him again. Gerard's hand pressed flat to Frank’s chest, pushing just slightly, and Frank laid back a little, propped up on his elbows. Gerard swung one leg over Frank's torso, straddling him, and pressed his palms to the floor. He turned his head slightly, lips so close, breathing Frank's air, until Frank pushed up, locking their lips together.

The kiss was definitely more… active than the last. Gerard's tongue flickered out and dragged along inside Frank’s mouth, hot and wet, and the redhead took hold of Frank’s bottom lip gently with his teeth, pulling slightly. Frank sat up completely, hands holding onto Gerard’s hips as the other man slid his hands up Frank’s shirt, just resting his hands on Frank’s skin, running his fingertips over it.

“Holy _shit!”_ A man laughed from the darkness of the tunnel, “That actually worked?”

“Dammit, Ray,” Frank groaned.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Is there anyone there?” Frank whispered.

“I can't see properly- move your _fucking leg, Iero,”_ Ray hissed.

“Sorry, Jesus Christ,” Frank rolled his eyes before snapping them open wider, “Wait, shit.”

“What?” Gerard asked, concerned.

“That car’s military,” Ray frowned, “Why are they even here?”

Gerard leaned in closer, peering through the bush the trio were crouched behind. The two men standing at the door were chatting. One was short and pale, about Frank’s size, and the other was taller with slightly more tanned skin. Both were wearing military clothing.

“Why are they just standing there?” Gerard asked.

“Some other guy went in, I didn't see his face,” Ray explained.

The man who’d entered the building stepped back out between the other two men at the door, and put his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the harsh sun.

And Gerard started running.

 

✞✞✞

 

“Gee- what the fuck are you _doing?”_ Frank called, watching the redhead sprint towards the house.

“Wait, that's…” Ray paused, awe in his voice, “Motherfucker.”

“What?” Frank cried as Ray jogged over to the four other guys, “What the fuck is happening right now?”

“Mikey _Fucking_ Way,” Gerard wrapped his arms around his brother, “Shit, bro. You're built as fuck.”

“Good to see you too, Gee,” Mikey laughed, “And Ray, holy shit.”

“Oh my god,” Frank laughed, approaching, “This is insane.”

“Frank Iero?” Mikey laughed, “Wow. Wow, okay.”

“You gonna introduce us to your friends?” Ray asked expectantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Mikey said, still staring at Gerard, worry eating away at the edges of his face, “Pete and, uh. Patrick.”

“He has a problem with calling me anything but _sir,”_ Patrick laughed.

“Kinky,” Gerard giggled under his breath, just loud enough so that both Frank and Mikey heard. Frank burst out laughing, and Mikey shoved his brother.

“So. Can we come in? I forgot to reapply sunscreen,” Mikey sighed.

“Idiot,” Gerard rolled his eyes fondly, “Not that you need to. You're so fucking white.”

“Ah yes, because radiation burns give you a great tan,” Mikey laughed, “And _I'm_ white? Have you even looked in a mirror?”

“Nah, I fixed my makeup on Ray’s _Iphone 8,”_ Gerard giggled, and Ray groaned.

“Well,” Frank grinned, “Y’all can come in, but it kind of looks like you already did.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Mikey smiled sheepishly, “I checked the records but I couldn't find your house, Gerard. There's just some burnt out-”

“Okay, look, it's a long story,” Gerard sighed.

“Let’s go in,” Ray smirked.

 

✞✞✞

 

**PART II COMING SOON!**

**Author's Note:**

> so pls leave kudos and/or a comment if you liked it! i'll start working on part two soon i swear, i just have a lot of things on the go atm (sigh)  
> ALSO THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT: THE NEXT PART IS MIKEY/PETE/PAT'S STORY. DO YOU WANT THE SHIP TO BE PETE/PAT OR MIKEY/PETE/PAT? (i'm not writing just petekey soz love u)  
> let me know in the comments!  
> PRQ OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS (this has been a long time coming, let me feel like i've achieved smth)


End file.
